


Nap Time but in Reverse

by taylor_tut



Series: Whump Bingo [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Exhausted Tony, Exhaustion, Gen, Overworked Tony, Overworking, Peter Parker is a Good Son, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: from the Whump Bingo on my Tumblr: Tony stops sleeping because of nightmares. Peter refuses to work until he rests.





	Nap Time but in Reverse

Tony was brilliant. That went without saying, but he enjoyed saying it, anyway--he was  _ a freaking genius _ . 

A side effect of that was a near eidetic memory and the ability to take on dozens of tasks at a time. While these had helped him in the business world, they were markedly… less practical for his everyday life.

“Hi, Mr. Stark,”  Peter greeted cheerily, setting his backpack down on the couch in the lab. “How goes it?”

Tony rubbed his hands over his face tiredly and bit back a groan. “Coffee,” he muttered, pretending that was a perfectly acceptable answer to “how are you.” 

Peter hesitated. “You… are you asking me to bring you coffee?” he asked. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “No, of course not. If I wanted an assistant to get me coffee I’d get one. Wait--,” he paused sarcastically for dramatic effect, “Dum-E,” he beckoned, and the little robot whirred obediently to his side, “coffee.”

Dum-E chirped happily and sped off to the small kitchen outside the lab.

“You want a cup?” Tony asked, turning to Peter. “Forgot to offer.”

Peter turned his nose up in mild disgust. “No thanks,” he declined, “I don’t drink the stuff.”

Tony looked more than mildly horrified. “Is it because of the taste? Dum-E, bring Pete a cup of the Sulawesi,” he barked, then rolled his head back toward Peter, “it’ll change your mind. How’d you say you take it?”

Peter frowned. “I, uh, didn’t, actually,” he said, “I said I don’t drink it. This might be overstepping boundaries, but are you… feeling alright?”

Tony shook his head to clear the fuzziness. “Golden,” he bit, “just--haven’t slept.”

“In how long?” Peter asked. 

“Uh, can’t remember--not important,” Tony brushed him off. 

“It’s been 78 hours,” FRIDAY offered helpfully. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shrieked. “Why?”

Tony glared back at the computer screen. “Been busy,” he said, adding a quiet, “thanks, Dum-E,” as he grabbed the first cup of coffee from the robot’s claw and watched it roll off to fetch the second. 

“Look, Mr. Stark, I don’t mean to pry, really… but I think you should get some sleep. I can take over anything you need to do for a few hours while you--”

“Nope,” Tony snapped, “not necessary, kid; I’m right as rain. So if you’d like to stop gossiping with FRIDAY and come help me do the things I hired you for, that’d be great.”

Peter looked apprehensive, but didn’t want to disobey his boss, and EXTRA didn’t want to be on Tony Stark’s bad side, so he shuffled to Tony’s side and looked over the set of weapons on the table.

“It’s Barton’s--sorry, Hawkeye--anyway, it’s his explodey… pointy… thingies.”

“Arrows?” Peter suggested, and Tony broke into a loopy grin.

“Those!” he bubbled, “smart kid!”  He swayed forward and caught himself against the table, narrowly avoiding bumping the explosive devices in front of them.

“Hey, woah!” Peter panicked, leading him away from the table and into a chair. “Mr. Stark, you’re clearly really exhausted,” he said quietly. “Can I call Captain Rogers? Or Dr. Banner? Or… anyone?”

Tony shook his head vehemently. “Won’t be able to do anything,” he insisted, “all I need’s a little sleep.”

Peter bit his bottom lip. “Well… maybe you should… do that, then?” 

Tony shook his head, looking miserable and exhausted. He pressed his thumbs into his eye sockets, and Peter decided to give him a minute.

He sighed.

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted. Peter misunderstood.

“If you give me the blueprints for the arrows, I’m sure I can figure them out, and if you have other things to do, I can try--”

‘No, Pete,” Tony cut him off. “It’s not--just forget it.”

“FRIDAY?” Peter asked, hoping that Tony’s reflexes might be too slow to prevent her treachery, “what’s going on?”

She spoke quickly as if to answer before Tony forbade it. “Mr. Stark is having flashback nightmares,” she supplied. 

“FRIDAY!” Tony barked, “where is your loyalty?”

“I wish only to do what’s best for you,” she replied innocently.

“Nightmares?” Peter echoed. “From… from Afgha--”

“Yeah,” Tony cut him off, “that. Touch of PTS, no biggie.”

Peter shifted in his seat. “Have you… seen someone?”

“Yeah, I was seeing someone for a while,” Tony replied. “His name was Jack Daniels, but it didn’t really work out, so I had to drop him.”

Peter wasn’t going to let him deflect. “Not a real person, though?”

“It’s none of your business, kid,” Tony bit. “Your business is on the table in front of you, so let’s actually work on it, if that fits into your schedule?”

Peter crossed his arms. “I’m not going to do anything until you sleep,” he insisted. 

Tony scoffed. “Right, okay. Well, you’re free to go home, then. I can do this myself.”

“Can you?” Peter asked. “Because I see three mistakes just by looking at your blueprints, and I’m not telling you what they are.”

“You’re bluffing,” Tony accused through gritted teeth.

“Am I?” 

He looked between the kid and the blueprints for several moments before finally huffing an irritated sigh and storming to the couch. 

“Are you happy?” he asked, lying down angrily. “I’m napping.”

“Most people don’t complain while they nap,” Peter pointed out.

“Well, I’m a multitasker,” he defended. However, lying down WAS, in fact, relaxing, and he was so exhausted… Maybe a quick little cat nap wouldn’t be so bad. He wasn’t alone anymore, after all, and the presence of another person tended to make things a little more bearable. “Fine,” he drawled, half-conscious. “I’ll sleep. But put it on the record that this is against my will.”

“Duly noted,” Peter said without looking up from the explosive arrows in front of him. “G’night, Mr. Stark. Sweet dreams.”

Tony fell asleep grumbling something that didn’t sound polite.


End file.
